


Compromised

by Dusty



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Humour, Sexual Content, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 00:53:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty/pseuds/Dusty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond has been hurt. M finds it hard to remain distant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compromised

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as an angsty 'look at how much she loves him' thing and descended into... well. See for yourself.

“And 007?” She was careful to keep her voice even. Professional interest only.

“He’s taken a beating, ma’am.”

M swallowed. _He was alive. He was alive. He was alive._

“Two broken ribs,” continued Tanner. “Fractured jaw, nasty head injury. Everything else is cuts and bruises. He’s in intensive care but the doctors are optimistic.”

“Right,” said M. “Keep me updated.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Tanner.

She put down the phone. Her office was suddenly deathly quiet. The clock said 2.30pm. Sunshine streamed in through the window, but she felt shrouded in darkness. She took a deep breath, but exhaled in shaky gasps. She reached for her computer, but her hand was trembling.

She gave into her body’s responses and held her head in her hands. _Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. More oxygen if you breathe in through your nose_.

_He was alive._

Very soon, she was fine. She opened her laptop and composed an email to notify ops that James was out of commission until further notice.

She proceeded to spend the following four days telling herself there was no professional reason to visit him in hospital. On day five, following constant nausea and sleeplessness, she invented a reason.

Her heels seemed to be the only sound as she strode down the hospital corridor. Tanner, walking beside her, seemed absorbed in his i-pad. She wondered if he thought her shoes were ridiculous. They sounded ridiculous; echoing around a place designed for peaceful convalescence. She shouldn't really be there.

“It’s the room on the right,” said Tanner.

“Good,” she replied casually. “Would you mind giving us a moment?”

“Of course,” he answered, slightly surprised. He smiled politely and retraced his steps to a seating area.

M took a deep breath and turned to look at the door. He was on the other side. She knocked, and let herself in.

James was sitting up in bed eating a bowl of jelly and watching a daytime soap opera. He raised both eyebrows as she closed the door behind her.

He appeared fine. A black eye, some wiring around his jaw for support, clearing some kind of brace for his ribs. But he was more than capable of a broad grin.

“Does this mean I can come back to work?” he asked eagerly.

“Certainly not,” she answered seriously. “You wouldn’t beat a puppy in a fight, the state you’re in.”

James frowned. “I think that’s an exaggeration, ma’am,” he said coolly.

“Will you turn that crap off?” she said, irritated by the constant chatter from the TV. “What are watching this nonsense for? I was told there was no brain damage.”

He pressed a button on the remote control and the room was quiet. “You’re a breath of fresh air,” he quipped with a smirk.

M suddenly didn’t know what she was doing there. She only felt angry. Furious, even. What had he done to himself. What had she made him do? She wasn’t able to meet his eyes.

“Nonetheless, 007, I expect you’ll be back on your feet in no time, and I’ve quite a lot to bring you up to speed on, so I thought I’d do that.”

“In person?” asked James softly. “I have an i-pad. You could have just emailed. Or sent Tanner.”

“He’s outside,” she said quickly. “It’s a delicate matter.”

“Is it now?”

“Yes.” Her hands were shaking.

“M,” said Bond, extending his hand.

She was staring at a pile of his clothes on the chair, the bedside table bereft of any _get well soon_ cards, the bruising on his face. She looked smaller than he’d ever seen her.

“M,” he said again, reaching a little further and grimacing as he did so. He caught her hand and finally, finally she met his eyes.”

He fixed her with a deep, reassuring gaze. “I’m fine,” he rasped.

She squeezed his hand. He could feel her body shaking. His heart almost stopped as he saw the tears in her eyes.

“You’d better be,” she said, sounding almost petulant.

He smiled. “You’ve absolutely no good reason to be here, have you?”

“No,” she said.

“It’s taken you this long to come up with a remotely believable excuse?”

“Yes,” she mumbled miserably, blinking away her tears.

“You’re losing your touch. You’re supposed to lie for a living.”

“Do want another black eye?” she warned him.

He chuckled. “If it would cheer you up.”

She snorted, then felt a lump in her throat as she realised he probably meant it.

“I think you’ve been battered enough,” she croaked, tenderly locking their fingers together.

He kissed her hand. “Thanks for coming to see me. I’m very much looking forward to my fake briefing.”

She laughed, feeling the tension start to fall away. Regarding him solemnly, she brushed the hair off his forehead, then leaned in to kiss his lips softly.

She straightened up, eyes shining. “I never want to see you in this condition again. Is that clear?”

James smirked. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be more careful next time you send me to kill five trained killers with an exploding pen.

“Don’t exaggerate or I’ll tell the nurse you’re not allowed pudding.”

He indulged in a dramatic pout which made her chuckle. A sly smile spread across her face. She stroked his forehead again. “Be a good boy, James,” she said wickedly. Her lips were suddenly on his once more; her tongue pushing gently into his mouth. His body responded instantly as he moaned and wriggled in the sheets. She cradled his face, mindful of his injuries, her other hand wandering down to feel his inevitable erection under the sheets.

“Mmmm, naughty boy,” she breathed, before kissing him more urgently. He rubbed against the pressure of her hand, his noises becoming more and more pitiful. Which was when she pulled back.

“Well, Bond. I think that’s enough for today.”

“Don’t you dare!” he said gruffly. “M! It hurts when I do it.”

“Well that should be a good indicator for when you’re ready to return to the field. If you can play with your cock, you’re good to go. Until then…”

“M!”

“Shhhh,” she warned, a finger to her lips. “I’ll think about you tonight. Get well soon.”

She walked to the door.

“But I thought you and Tanner were going to brief me?”

She turned and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll tell him you’re not _up_ to it.”

“I see,” said James. “Someone’s back on form. Lying coming naturally again.”

She gave him an evil smile and swept out of the room, closing the door behind her. He was fine. He was absolutely fine.

James gingerly shoved his hand under the sheets. “ _Mind over matter_ ,” he muttered to himself, before lapsing into frantic movements.

M walked towards Tanner, her heels once again breaking the quiet of the corridor. Only this time she could hear faint intermittent groaning from James’ room.

“We’re leaving,” she said quickly.

Tanner stood with a quizzical frown.

“He’s not up to it,” said M. “He really is in terrible pain. We’ll come back another time.”

At that exact moment, there was a loud shout from James’ room, followed by deep sighs.

“Should I call the nurse?” asked Tanner.

“She’s on her way,” said M, walking in front of him so he couldn’t see her face heating up. “Best if we give him some privacy.”

“Ma’am,” acknowledged Tanner, following her out, and pretending not to notice her slight stumble as she hurried away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
